If I Had the World to Give
by Apapazukamori
Summary: She's done so much for him, and Suzaku wants to thank her.


**If I Had the World to Give**

Honorary Britannian Suzaku Kururugi, Knight and Protector of Euphemia li Britannia.

A really, really long title. Suzaku wondered what his father would have thought of it. He didn't know if _he_ knew what to think of it. Though it certainly sounded better than Kururugi Suzaku, Ex-Japanese.

Kururugi Suzaku, Patricide.

Sometimes he couldn't believe he wasn't dreaming all of it.

His new white uniform still felt ill-fitting. The reception after the ceremony continued, somewhere within the royal residence, but Their Royal Highnesses had retired at least an hour ago. And as much as he respected and liked Lloyd, Suzaku hesitated to rely too much on him. Especially not with the never-ending train of champagne glasses moving around the reception room. Besides, he had something else he wanted to do before he went home for the night. A steward had given him directions to the younger princess' rooms, but as he rounded every corner, Suzaku waited for someone to haul him away to the servants' exit, or off to jail. Of course, he was being silly. By some miracle, he had managed to belong here.

"There's that Eleven," a maid whispered to another as he passed. "The one the princess knighted this afternoon."

"He'd better not steal anything!"

Suzaku maintained his "soldier's face" and kept walking as the first maid shushed the second. The pin Euphemia had given him felt incredibly heavy over his heart. Even a symbol like that couldn't endear him to everyone.

The smart ones still could see through him.

The guards on either side of the princess' door simply nodded to him as he approached, saying nothing to stop him from knocking. He couldn't help but smile as he heard her voice. "Who is it?"

Suzaku clasped his hands behind his back. "Suzaku Kururugi, Your Highness."

A rush of footsteps and the door came flying open. "Suzaku! You don't have to be so formal! Come in, come in!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him into her room, the smile on her face both lifting his heart and making it beat harder in his chest. "I thought you'd still be at the party."

A white-gloved hand came up to rub the back of his neck. "I'm not really used to that kind of thing."

Euphemia giggled and closed the door behind him. Suzaku watched her do it, amazed the guards still said nothing. He wouldn't have thought even a full Britannian citizen would be allowed in the princess' quarters unchaperoned. "Euphie," he asked, hesitantly. "Is this okay?"

Big blue eyes blinked questioningly at him. "Hm?" She tilted her head to the side, hair falling over her shoulder in waves. He suddenly realized she was already in her nightgown, and his eyes widened.

"Um, you... I mean... um..." he stammered, inching toward the door while keeping his eyes firmly directed at the ground. "Maybe I should come back in the morning--"

"Why?" she asked, slippered feet coming into view.

Obstructed, Suzaku paused in his path toward the door, but didn't risk looking up. "You're wearing... ah... well..."

Again, she laughed, and grabbed at one of his hands with both of hers. "Don't worry so much," she chided gently. "I trust you."

Suzaku looked up quickly, eyes starting to sting just a little. She had already done so much for him, more than he could ever repay. More than he could ever deserve. "Euphie..."

Her tiny hands squeezed his and then released it as she moved over to her one of the small tables in the room. "Actually," she began in a sing-song voice. "I was hoping you'd come by."

While her back was turned, Suzaku scrubbed at his eyes with the back of one hand. "You did?"

"Yes, because I wanted to give you something!"

Something _else_? "Really, Euphie," he protested. "You've done enough already--"

He stopped short when she held a plate in front of his face, so close his eyes nearly crossed. Taking a half step back, he saw a piece of yellow sponge cake. He blinked, definitely not expecting that. Euphemia blushed a little, but offered it again, undaunted. "Do you know what it is?" Suzaku swallowed, somehow knowing that "cake" would not be an appropriate answer. The dessert looked a little familiar, but given the number of cakes, pies, or pastries he had seen in his life both in Japan and during his time in Britannia, he could hardly expect to remember them all. She sighed and lowered the plate, pouting just a little. "I followed the recipe exactly," she grumped as she turned the plate in her hands. "It's supposed to be castella."

A little light of understanding went off in the back of Suzaku's head. His father had brought a box back from Nagasaki one year. He smiled and nodded. "I knew I'd seen it before," he said earnestly. Euphemia's pout stayed on her lips but her eyebrows lifted hopefully. "But why?"

She blushed. "I wanted to do something, but everything else was too complicated, or we didn't have the right ingredients." She smiled. "Maybe someday, though, I could try Christmas cake."

Realization dawning that she'd actually tried to make him something Japanese, he felt his mouth hang open. With a little giggle, she broke off a piece of the castella and fed it to him. Her fingertips brushed his bottom lip and he sputtered, nearly choking on the cake, as he covered his mouth with one hand. "Th... thank you," he managed in a muffled voice, finally remembering to chew and swallow. Euphemia erupted into more giggles, so much so that she threatened to drop the plate. He reached out and took it from her, a small, stupidly happy grin on his own face. She recovered enough to clap her hands as he pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth so he wouldn't get it dirty while eating.

"Wait, wait!" She waved her hands frantically. Again, Suzaku paused, the cake halfway to his mouth. "There's something you have to say, right, before you eat?" His eyes widened as he wondered how much research she had actually put into this. "'It-ta-dayke-ma-_su_'."

Suzaku _laughed_, regretting that it coaxed out a squeal of indignation, but he couldn't help it. His first real laugh in years, maybe since before he'd left Lelouch and Nunally behind. He took a few deep breaths and coughed, trying to compose himself. "Your pronunciation needs some work."

She pouted again and Suzaku blamed the laughter lingering in the back of his throat for wondering what kissing that pout would feel like. She only increased the temptation by smiling. "Well, then, you'll just have to teach me."

Suzaku muttered a properly pronounced "ittadakimasu" to make her happy and quickly stuffed the piece of cake in his mouth and nodded. She laughed and took the plate from him, setting it on the table. He would have to ask to take some home with him; he had barely tasted it.

Of course, now that the cake no longer distracted them, Suzaku had nothing to do but do what he came here to. "Um, Euphie," he began, slightly nervous. "I actually wanted to give you something, too."

Her eyes widened. "Me?" She blushed and clapped her hands in delight when he nodded. "Oh, Suzaku you didn't need to!"

He thought it best not to argue that point, so he simply smiled and reached into his breast pocket. His uncovered fingers brushed his father's pocket watch -- his constant reminder -- but pulled out a small box wrapped in white paper. Before he could switch hands, she stepped forward to take it, their fingers brushing together and Suzaku hid a grimace at the thought of tainting her with his hand. But her touch lingered, sending a not unpleasant shiver through him. Completely unaware of his first thought -- and hopefully of his second -- Euphemia beamed up at him. "May I open it?"

"Of course," he replied, heart beating even harder than before.

She pulled off the wrapping and gasped in surprise as she lifted the lid. "Oh, Suzaku..." she breathed, setting the lid on table. Her fingers gently traced the tiny golden links in the chain, following them down to the sparkling amethyst pendant. He had seen others, larger and more grand, but they hadn't seemed her style. Though, all of them had been well beyond his means, anyway. Happy tears shone in her eyes as she looked at him, reaching up to touch his face. He nearly stepped back, but something in her eyes seemed to promise him he could never harm her. She trusted him; she'd said so herself. So her cool fingertips pressed against his cheek, sending a second shiver tripping after the first. "Thank you." She pulled her hand back and pulled the necklace out of the box and offered it to him. "Would you help me put it on?"

He took it carefully and nodded. With a giggle, she clapped her hands and hurried into her bedroom, with Suzaku nervously on her heels. He felt thin; a bundle of nerves and giddy energy that didn't quite know what to do with itself. Euphemia sat down in front of her dressing table, busily gathering her hair. She twisted it all up on top of her head and held it up with one hand, then turned to look back at him. Suzaku stared for a moment of at the curve of the back of her neck, long and graceful, with little curls falling elegantly along it. He took a deep breath and stood behind her, meeting her eyes in the mirror as she turned back around. She smiled at him and his heart skipped a beat.

Only his training with assembling small pieces of weaponry under pressure made it possible for him to unhook the clasp with fingers shaking as badly as his were. He brought the chain carefully around, breath quickening as his fingers brushed the nape of her neck. He thought he felt her shiver as he fit the clasp together, and for a moment _almost_ gave into the urge to press his mouth against the top of her spine, to feel the warmth of her through the thin cloth of her nightgown. He swallowed hard and settled for curling a lock of her hair around one finger. No matter what she promised, he was what he was.

He met her eyes again in the mirror and then his gaze drifted down to the hollow of her throat, where the pendant shone in the low light. "Perfect," he murmured, and watched as she took a slow breath, then smiled. He didn't know if he would ever see her wear it again; it paled in comparison to some of her other finery. Given her position, something else might have to take precedence. But tonight, she wore it; tonight he could pretend she was his just as she had made him hers earlier. Come the morning, only one of those would still be true, and he gladly accepted the role. His loyalty to her knew no bounds.

He would give her everything he had, and gladly, for what she had first given him.

She had given Honorary Britannian Suzaku Kururugi hope that whatever sacrifices he made would not only be for something as selfish as his own redemption.


End file.
